Scar Tissue
by C. Jaxx
Summary: It's no longer an organic world, nor a synthetic one. The Reaper war killed millions and left countless changed to the point of unfamiliarity. Tri'im volunteers at a youth shelter to avoid her broken life, but as she's taking tentative steps towards normalcy, the raloi return to Council space, and a diplomat's kid joins her group for PR. Everything falls apart. Post-synthesis.
1. Present Trauma

There was a marauder in the doorway. Said marauder was Tri'im's mother, but her date didn't care about that detail. His shout could have woken the dead, and now he was poised to swing a fist into the marauder's face.

Ice-cold combat mode rushed over Tri'im, gone was nervous excitement. She threw herself at him. They tumbled to the ground, her biotics failing to cushion the impact. No surprise.

Mandibles pressed against her lower jaw, Tri'im tried to fight through her mortification and actually say something and not just make a pathetic static sound while she offered Quintus a hand. He pushed himself up into a fighting stance, green eyes wild.

_ No, no, no, not again!_ Tri'im stepped in front of him, arms out, palms up. "Quintus! Calm down! It's just my mother, come on, remember, I told you." Not even a flicker of recognition. She folded down her thumbs. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

He blinked rapidly, gulped down a breath. His eyes flickered back and forth between her hands and the marauder now backed halfway into the living room. "One, two… four…"

She put a thumb out. "Now?"

"Tri'im… behind you…"

Her heart felt like a bomb ready to burst. This couldn't be happening. Not Quintus, too. "How many-"

"Spirits, you've been indoctrinated." His eyes were wide now, fixed on her in a look of horror. He grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her into the hallway, yanking the door shut behind him. "Get away! I can't lose you!"

She stumbled along as he ran past 103, 102, 101, 100. She leaned down, reached up, and pushed his arm off. "Quintus!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned back, mouth open. His eyes narrowed again. "Tri'im…"

Thump. He collapsed against the wall, head touching his knees. His fingered scraped against the complex patterns of Bostra's markings on his forehead. "Tri'im, I am so sorry, I…" He stood, wavering like he hadn't slept in days, hardly able to meet Tri'im's eyes. "I need to go home. Sorry." And he staggered away.

Tri'im's shoulders slumped. Another 'meet the parent' night, ruined. She bit her tongue on the walk back to her apartment. Anger flooded her mind like the blood in her mouth. At Quintus, for reacting so badly (but she was the one who brought him back to the war), at the Reapers, for causing this whole situation in the first place (they thought they would succeed, and if they had, then this never would have happened), at her mother, for becoming one of them (not Tri'im's fault, not her mother's fault, but someone did this).

Before she knew it, she was opening the door, coming face-to-face with her mother. Tri'im swore she could see shame and disappointment in those nine eyes.

Her mother's hand on her shoulder, even as mechanized as it was, felt softer than Quintus's. Galantian led her daughter inside, head down, and sat her down next to her on the couch. Tri'im rubbed her forehead. Her mother picked up the datapad she kept on the arm of the couch and began typing.

I'm sorry.

"No, it's my fault, I should have told him before we got back."

The wait for Galantian to erase the last message and type was miserable. Because of the questions-

Why didn't you?

-like that. Tri'im racked her brain for an answer, found herself speaking before she came up with something good. "Because I didn't want him to think… I don't know. That I lived with monsters."

Tri'im didn't need ex-minion empathy to feel her mother's pain.

Do you think I'm a monster?

"No, mom, I swear, it's just that…"

Everyone else does.

This was going down a path Tri'im knew too well. She stood up and walked towards the stairs before Galantian could do anything. "It's been a rough night. I'm going to sleep. Busy day tomorrow."

**Eyy, lookit, a story. I'll tell you now that I don't write ****_long_**** in any sort. I will update when I have a chapter written up. Thanks for reading,  
**


	2. Traii

"And… that's checkmate, isn't it?" The batarian girl studied the board, lower lip between her teeth.

Tri'im kept her arm still, but mentally accessed the game controls so it illuminated the winning setup. "Looks like it, Jinny."

The girl pressed her lips together, probably already thinking about the next game. She leaned from side to side, laced her hands and ran them down the back of her head, flexed her jaw like she was imitating a turian's mandible flare. Then she jutted her chin out, lower eyes meeting Tri'im's. "I want a rematch."

Jona snorted and shook his head. And here Tri'im was, thinking he was engrossed with the ribbons on the memorial wall. "She is up eight to one."

Jinny's determined look wavered. "But there's still the one, right? Those odds aren't too bad?"

Jona shrugged. "Not saying it's impossible."

Tri'im let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. The last thing she needed was to try to cheer up the thirteen-year-old by losing on purpose, as Jona had suggested earlier that morning. A good turian would loathe the thought, and Tri'im was struggling to get out of the bad turian hole as it was. She glanced at the memorial board, dedicated to Surus Lorictus. Dead not long after leaving the shelter for bootcamp, ship destroyed by pirates looting a dead Reaper. The humans had set it up, but the turians lingered nearby, building up a collection of offerings to his spirit. She had nothing for him.

Even Jinny, as far from turian as possible excluding maybe Reapers themselves, had a wrapped wire flower in her pocket. That made Tri'im worse than a kid raised by pirates. Great way to look normal, stable, what have you, her ground level low citizenship was bad enough.

She jumped when Jona tapped her shoulder. Totally unnecessary. He wasn't a threat. Just sending a message to her.

Implant issues? It accompanied a warm, almost aching flood of concern and camaraderie. A subtle feel of friendship and confidentiality.

Her reply was nowhere near so kind. Any feelings of appreciation for his thought was drowned by a leak of frazzled, cold stress. No. It's fine.

"Who're those bird people?"

Tri'im broke contact with Jona to follow the direction Jinny was pointing. Sure enough, there was Therus Derin, standing near the memorial board, chatting it up with a feathered being Tri'im hadn't seen for years.

Jona stole the words out of her head. "What are the raloi doing here?"

"Who?" Jinny looked between the two, then at the alien. She shook her head and mumbled confused sounds.

Tri'im brushed Jinny's hand, giving her a quick burst of the relevant information and emotions. New to the galaxy, went into hiding like cowards, and now they were standing in the shelter like _they_ had something to contribute to everyone _else_. Hopefully nobody would get sick from their presence this time.

Therus started moving, weaving through the curious youth with his eyes fixed on the raloi. His guest, on the other hand, was far from experienced in the shelter, and their head darted back and forth to avoid tripping on a toddler.

Tri'im hissed a curse when she realized Therus was coming right for them. She was not in the mood to put on the happy volunteer act for some stone-faced bird. Worse, the bird smelled like bruised ripe fruit, overpowering and sickly sweet. It blocked out even the shelter's cheap air freshener and infrequently-showering kids.

Jinny whispered something that sounded like a question to Jona.

"These are two of our dedicated volunteers, Tri'im Rusius and Jona'Hazt, and Jinartha-"

"Jinny."

Therus blinked slowly. "_Jinny_ Loressan. A resident."

The raloi's head bobbed. "High met. I am Endai Ari'ka Traii." There was a pause, where the raloi's oversize black eyes met everyone else's. "…Child of Endai Ari'ka Tren?" Another couple seconds passed, and Traii's eyes narrowed. "Never mind."

Tri'im nodded to the newcomer. "Apologies. We did not keep up to date on the news."

Therus patted Traii on the shoulder. "These three are great. I need to go visit with Zenia, so you can talk to them. They've got good stories about living and helping here at the shelter." He was gone before Traii could say something.

"Might as well come sit with us," Jona said, pulling out a chair. He sat down across from the waiting seat, chin propped on one hand. Once Traii sat down, fruit smell that much stronger, Jona shot off a question. "So, what brings you to our _lovely_ facility?"

Traii's eyelids batted, head tilted to one side. "I didn't see anything wrong with the shelter…"

Jona waved the thought away. "Oh, no, the place is nice enough. The management is another question."

Traii tittered, chin dipped into their chest feathers. "Therus Derin is not terribly popular?"

"Oh, he is." Jona sighed, exhaling so hard he shrank into his chair. "That is the problem."

"I see."

"Fun stuff," Tri'im said. She rotated the view on the chess game. Jinny wasn't paying any attention now, too busy trying to hide her staring at Traii to play, and Tri'im did not feel up for it. She quit the game without a second thought. Something didn't look right in the display… a message. One given so low priority it didn't even trigger an alert. Sender: Quintus Epictus.

All too familiar. She knew without looking it was a breakup note. An "I'm sorry it didn't work out" note, or a "maybe we should see other people" note, or maybe an "it's not you, it's me," note, which was worst of all.

Tri'im, the nice bird's asking you a question.

Her head snapped up, predator eyes honed in on Traii. Fantastic way to represent the facility, shutting out the junior ambassador or whoever this kid was. They didn't squirm, but their eye contact faltered and their arms pulled in a little. Good. Maybe they got the idea she wasn't happy to play host. "What?"

"I…" They cleared their throat and sat up straighter than before, something Tri'im had thought impossible. "Having been here on the Citadel for…" They sunk back down. "A-about one day, I have seen very little. Could you perhaps point out a couple places?"

Spirits, not today. Was Traii even legal drinking age for raloi? Because after this and last night, all Tri'im wanted was a few shots, or a cup, or maybe a whole bottle. She scratched her chin, fingers reaching up to tap her Syglar skull tattoo's exaggerated canines. "What sorts of places?"

Now they turned their head away, but kept their eyes on her. Big, naïve eyes. "I don't know. That is why I am asking you."

Jona spread his arms wide as he could without hitting anyone. "Why not?" He touched his boot to Tri'im's. Just try not to look at it like a chore. We can have a night out, and they're a new friend.

Tag-along.

Whatever runs your ship.

"Fine, there's a couple nice spots."

Jinny scooted her chair towards Jona, the most over-the top sweet smile on her face, her hands clasped with her elbows on the table. "Can I come?"

He tipped her chair away from him, stopping just before she tumbled off. "No, Jinny. We're going _after_ your curfew."

Traii muffled a laugh.

Jinny blew air between her front teeth and her vice grip on the table relaxed so she could throw herself into a spread-legged, leaning back pose. "So? When's the last time I cared?"

Now Tri'im was fighting to not laugh. Allura, one of the stricter volunteers, had heard and padded up behind the girl, lips pressed so tight it pushed up the glasses fused to her nose. She stopped just out of the resident's sight, fists on her hips. "Ex-_cuse_ me?"

Traii brushed their arm against Jona and Tri'im's. This will be good?

Very, Jona replied. All three pooled together their anticipation and amusement. Two, once Tri'im pulled away from the group. She didn't need to risk oversharing with Traii.

Allura leaned down so her thin nose hovered inches away from Jinny's second set of eyes. One blue finger, quivering she held her wrist so tight, poked Jinny's forehead. "_No._"

"…Why not?" Jinny grinned lopsided, lower eyes flicking around the room while the upper held fast on Allura. "I mean, they're volunteers and all, right? So... I can go with them?"

It didn't change Allura's dead seriousness. "There. Is. A. Curfew. And you. Are. A. Troublemaker!" She punctuated her sentence with jabs to Jinny's head, and by the increasingly zoned in look on the batarian's face, she was adding in a dose of crushing authority for good measure.

Traii and Jona shared a look. Sharing tales, too, by Jona's subtle nods and Traii's less subtle shocked expression. _Fantastic way to get us in a good light,_ Tri'im thought, sinking down towards the table. She heard Jinny relenting a little too loudly and felt Allura glaring daggers at the volunteers. By the end of the day, Jona and Tri'im both would get a write-up and a strike, and the twenty overtime hours Tri'im finished last week to remove the last strike on her record would all be for naught.

They were definitely ending the tour of the Citadel at a bar.

**Okay, so, I'd been working on this well before I put the first chapter up. I can't actually write 1,600 words in a day.**


	3. Confrontation and Communications

The volunteers' shifts ended at the shelter's curfew, and by then, the artificial sky was dark and sprinkled with stars and nebulae. Tri'im, Jona, and Traii held hands, the circuit overlay on their respective skin, suit, and feathers pulsing like neurons. Walking three abreast, they took up most of the walkway, and while Jona and Traii contented themselves chatting about daily life on the Citadel, Tri'im watched for other groups they would have to navigate against. Every once in a while, camera drones buzzed the trio and she had to duck.

I have heard of areas damaged even before the Reapers closed the Citadel. Will we see those? Traii's hopefulness buoyed up Tri'im, though her own thoughts- carefully bolted down and out of the group link- reflected a heavy tiredness. That was a long drive from here the raloi was asking for.

Jona showed only the slightest hint of reticence. That's closer to the Presidium, mostly. We _could_ go there, but...

Traii shared nothing but understanding as artificial as their perfume. It's fine. If it is closer to the Presidium, I can go some other time.

If you're right by the Presidium, why not go visit Shepard Memorial or one of the other nice shelters there? _No,_ that didn't come out right. All too accusatory, so much so Traii's offense ran through the link before they could pull together for an answer.

They said nothing until a camera drone swung over and in front of them. Traii tilted their head toward her and politely told the camera, "All the effort to help the galaxy's displaced is invaluable, and I think Saint Agatha's mission is as valuable and needs as much attention as the work done by places like Shepard Memorial."

Tri'im played along, nodding like she'd been enlighted to this amazing cause. Satisfied, the camera flew off. Hopefully her mother would not be skimming news sites tonight. After yesterday, neither was up for visitors, but that never stopped Galantian from questioning her daughter, and if she learned about the raloi, Tri'im would be interrogated relentlessly.

The three plotted the next leg of their course. Many of the shops shut down around now, but the nightlife was waking up. Jona and Tri'im agreed not to take Traii anywhere _too_ seedy, at least not while the drones could find them. That took out most of the places they knew in their range and budget, but they pointed out places Traii could go to some other time.

The smell of broth and earthy aromatics wafted through the air. A ramen vendor greeted the trio and almost started peddling his wares when something spicy hit hot oil and sizzled. The mastae guy across the way craned his neck to try and get Tri'im and Jona's attention.

You think I can get a discount? Jona asked, attracted to the allure of fresh mastae. While the vendor would take a credit or two off the price for volunteers- he had found his niece at Saint Agatha's and said he was just returning the favor- he made them bargain for it first.

Tri'im snorted. The main reason she and Jona stayed at Saint Agatha's to curfew was for the food they got. Discounted or not, they'd wait until an off-shift period for mastae, mostly so Jona could get over whatever bug he got from daring to eat solid food. Still, an order of them made a great late-night snack. She saw Traii checking out the shop, reading the menu from the motion of their eyes. Levo or dextro?

Traii snapped out of it. What? Oh, levo.

Stick with the ramen. Nlix doesn't do levo mastae. Though it didn't matter, she felt disappointed. What was the levo to dextro ratio now?

No amount of thought absorption could distract her from familiar, fast footsteps. She let go of Jona's hand, catching him and Traii by surprise. They stepped back as she spun on her heel, ready to hit the interloper.

The look on Jinny's face was priceless. She scrambled back until Tri'im had her cornered, Jona and Traii hovering nearby like vultures waiting for the kill. Tri'im towered more than a foot over Jinny when both were standing, and the batarian had to roll her head up to look Tri'im in the eyes, both all too aware how it exposed her. Fear rolled off Jinny in earthy-sharp waves.

"You're not supposed to be here." Tri'im's voice came out as a growl, flanged like two people were talking. It scratched her throat. Here was another infraction staring her in the face. What a great job of helping a problem kid she was doing.

Jinny sputtered, but the fear-scent lessened. "But it's the Citadel-"

"And?" Spirits, what made them think Tri'im could handle this?

"It's, like, safe?"

A camera clicked. The blood drained out of Tri'im's face, ice massing in her stomach. She heard Jona shout, turned to see him running after a drone while Traii chattered rapidly, almost hysterical.

Without a second to lose, Tri'im bounded after the drone. It climbed upwards, and she leaped. Grabbed for it. Swatted at it when that failed. Got a blast of hot, metallic air in her face for her efforts. It flew out of reach and down the almost empty walkway.

She punched a wall, teeth bared in a fit of fury. It stung her knuckles, dug the tips of her talons into her palm. If she'd made a mistake not asking to work with someone else, she would make the senior volunteers regret placing her with Jinny in the first place. Her implants twinged like sparks in her head; she ignored it in favor of storming back to her charge, who had just gotten out of the corner.

"_You_ are going back. _Now._" She snatched Jinny's wrist before the young teen could reply. She brushed Jona's arm as she passed, telling him to keep going, she'd handle this.

Once Jona and Traii were out of sight, she slowed down until Jinny was no longer stumbling along behind her. Even as Tri'im's heart rate slowed down, pain hummed in the background, loudest in her brain and echoed along all her nerves. Both blocked automatic connections. It didn't matter. Tri'im smelled Jinny's fear and saw the starts of regret in her face.

"The Citadel isn't safe."

Jinny's eyes narrowed, mouth opened, a flicker of confusion. "It's the _Citadel_, I thought-"

Tri'im gripped her shoulders and got down on one knee. She stared Jinny right in the lower eyes, plenty for getting her full focus. "No. Are you kidding? Cerberus attacked, mercs used it as a base, there's all _sorts_ of criminals here, it is literally part. Of. A. Weapon!"

Jinny squirmed, but Tri'im was certain she wasn't even going to bruise from this. No need to let go yet. "Cerberus is dead, and-"

That was enough. Tri'im hissed, aiming for the sort of sound someone far wiser makes. As far as she knew, this would just encourage her. Once a criminal, always a criminal, as her drill sergeant and her military police-bound friends loved to say. "Come on. You have a test tomorrow, right?"

School put more fear in Jinny's eyes than mentions of terrorist groups. "Yeah, but... but it's just history?"

"I thought you liked history."

"Nuh uh, I like listening to- never mind."

The way back to Saint Agatha's was quiet, now that most who were going to stay in were in and those going out were out. Tri'im swiped her palm by the door to unlock it and sent Jinny in. It clicked shut, a noise sharp and loud to the buzzing misery in her head. Jona and Traii could have fun. Tri'im was going home.

The apartment was dark when she got back. Galantian would be not-quite-sleeping, then, thinking with the other ex-minions. So long as Tri'im was quiet, she had free reign.

Her first act as queen regent of apartment 104 was swiftly enacted. She'd run out of prescription-strength pain meds weeks ago, but she had other methods. Like the almost empty pack of cheap beer scurried away in a back cabinet. Down to the last two, but that was fine. She maneuvered to the couch and collapsed onto it. The fabric conformed to the shape of her body, broken in just right.

The beer smelled bitter and tasted flat, but it was better than nothing. After carefully burying the cans in the recycling bins, she curled back up to check her omni-tool one last time before nodding off. She dimmed its display, but the orange material still hurt her eyes.

Two messages. One from Jona, asking if she was okay. Her reply totaled three words: "Yes. At home."

The other she didn't want to read, but better now than never, when she might forget its contents by the time she woke up. She opened it, braced for the worst.

_Tri'im,  
_

_I'm sorry about last night. I remember you mentioning what happened to your parents, but I don't know, I fell in and couldn't get out. Yeah, that sounds right. I want to make it up to you. Maybe we can schedule something? Let's just wait a bit for another family night._

_From,_

_Quintus Epictus_

She didn't think before starting a reply. The buzz of the alcohol mixed with the ringing headache and sleepiness. Surprise mingled with joy and excitement only for worry to cut in. Was this a joke? The thought left as quickly as it came. She had a second chance. This could _work._

She fell asleep happy, but not entirely aware of what she'd written back.


	4. Bonding

A scent savory, almost floral, drifted into Tri'im's nostrils. There was... a pressure... on her feet, a presence in the back of her head behind the leftover throbbing of an implant flare-up. Before she said anything, a rattling sound emanated from the back of her throat, and she coughed, but her voice was still rough. "Mata... Wh- _kff_\- whuh?"

Well, you were taking up the whole entire couch. Galantian didn't often link with people, even her own daughter. Others feared being indoctrinated, but to Tri'im, the chorus of other voices, some echoing Galantian, others babbling, made it hard to listen. I made you some tea, she added.

Tri'im got the feeling she was not to decline the tea. Her mother would not stand for wasting it, and Tri'im was the only one of the two who could drink it. She sat up, pulling her feet out so she only took up two thirds of the couch and took the mug waiting on the end table.

So I was watching the news last night...

Tri'im almost coughed out the bitter tea. Barriers slammed down between her and Galantian, holding back the tide of panic, anger, and the slightest hint of curiosity. Galantian recoiled, breaking off the link as she reached for her datapad. Tri'im set her tea down and pushed it away, teeth scraping against her mandibles. She didn't mean to do _that_, but now she was lost on words for an apology.

"Ah... wha'bout the news?"

Galantian typed fast, a smattering of cameras focusing in on the datapad. She passed it to Tri'im with a slight nod. So about that raloi, it read, When did they show up?

The knot in Tri'im's gut wasn't so tight anymore. She picked up her tea and sipped it, buying time to come up with decent wording. "Traii? I met 'em yesterday."

Each of Galantian's cameras focused and refocused, mandibles twitching away from her lack of a jaw. She took the datapad back, erased the previous sentence and wrote more like she had all the time in the world. Oh, right, Traii. The ambassador's fourth child, yes?

Tri'im grumbled half-words. Did she have enough time to get a soaking cold washcloth and leave it on her face for, oh, say, an hour? Or should she skip the headache relief and get going before her mother slipped into full-on interrogation mode? She fell back until her cowl hit the arm of the couch, closed her eyes, and called up the time. Closer to going than not.

She finished the tea, making sure she faced away from Galantian before grimacing at the bitter aftertaste. It'd be best to get into different clothes before she left; she had worn her current outfit two days in a row, and people would start noticing if she shot for a third. Besides, if Traii was not going away anytime soon, might as well not disgust them.

Her room was little more than a large closet with stowable furniture, tidy in the way of someone who either never had many personal possessions or never unpacked them. The bed sat flush in the wall, giving Tri'im access to the similarly inset drawers opposite it. There wasn't much in the drawers, but Tri'im managed to put together an outfit of tan-fading-to-grey cargo pants and a long-sleeved dark green shirt with a knot tied in the side to keep the extra fabric contained. She loved the shirt's so very organic folds.

Between the remaining headache and trying to predict how showing up at St. Agatha's would go, she forgot not to be surprised by the lack of morning coolness and dew. She glanced around like she needed to find the missing condensation, and she couldn't shake an unnerved feeling for the rest of the walk.

Therus wasn't standing at the entrance, or even in her sight once she came inside. Thank the spirits. Jona spotted her and waved her over to the breakfast line.

"You're not helping my case by letting me cut," Tri'im said, crossing her arms and tilting her head back. Great, now Traii's thick perfume had a shorter path to her nose.

"Oh, you're not. Just replace me." Traii stepped out of the line, nudging Tri'im towards Jona (not that they had much effect on the bulky turian).

"Not hungry?" She took the spot; if she didn't, it would be a good long while before she got food.

"I already ate." They ruffled their feathers and rolled their shoulders back, then nodded towards the tables. "In fact, I will find a place to sit."

"No, it's all-" Jona started, but Traii was already walking away. "...Right." He sighed, then reached one arm out so his wrist touched Tri'im's. I think they feel awkward after last night. You storming off and all.

I didn't _storm_ off. Tri'im huffed, but she knew she had. I'll tell 'em it's all right. Oh, yeah, where's Therus?

Jona passed her a tray and took a bottle filled with some sort of thick liquid for himself; since he was in the presence of so many other dextro beings, and he had gone on his Pilgrimage before he could start controlled exposure therapy, he couldn't take his mask off. The only good part, he'd say, was that it cut down waiting time considerably. "Last I saw him, he was with the media people, talking about his experience as head volunteer." He hummed. "They haven't been asking the other volunteers much..."

Tri'im nodded at the server, a youthful asari girl with a gap-toothed smile. New. She still gave generous portions. Tray in one hand, Tri'im left the line with Jona, and they went for their saved spots. "Not all of us are important or cute as Therus."

He elbowed her in the side. "Hey, who wouldn't want to hear from the resident quarian?" After a couple seconds of thought, he added, "Or grumpy turian?"

Once they were close to the table, she hip-checked him, sending him stumbling into the bench. Traii squawked, only to start laughing when Jona whined about Tri'im being a bully. She told him to suck it up and sat down beside him, craning her neck to get past him and make eye contact with Traii. She needed to get this out of the way first. "About last night, sorry. Didn't mean to let that happen." She touched their hand to let them know that she really _was_ sorry, though her grumbling didn't show it.

Traii responded with a stream of assurance. "Your reaction is understandable."

Jona excused himself, leaving Tri'im to eat in silence while Traii focused inwards, probably answering fanmail or whatever else their celebrity status afforded them. She just kept her head down best she could while watching out for Allura or Therus. The latter was indeed not around, and Allura was far from Tri'im and facing away. Jinny was also nowhere to be found. Not a surprise; she could have tricked the server into believing she was younger and gotten her food earlier.

Something cold and wet hit her from behind. She grabbed at it, much to Jona's raucous amusement, until she realized it was a wet washcloth. Ignoring some stares from other tables, she wedged the washcloth as far up as possible until it stuck between her fringe and exposed head. The coolness was like a dream, and Tri'im couldn't suppress a similarly cold shiver down her spine. Turian facial structure made it tough for her to rest her head on the table so the water trickled down to pool by her face, but hunching over and wiping any stray drops under her jaw and eyes sufficed.

"You had that whole _thing_ going on," Jona explained. The glow of his eyes narrowed and he made ridiculous clawing motions at her, accompanied by a growl. Traii chuckled at the impersonation.

"I don't do-" she repeated the clawing, except much closer to Jona's face and with actual talons. He didn't flinch, but Traii leaned back. "-_that_."

"Pssh, close enough. You done yet? We should try and do something before someone hunts you down. I got little kid duty."

She stood, followed by the other two. "Marbles and paint? Just let me make sure Jinny's studying first."

"All right. Want to help out, Traii? They'd love to show you their art." Jona tossed his bottle in the to-clean bucket while Tri'im stacked her tray. Traii and Jona split off to find the supply closet while Tri'im continued on into the residential hall.

There were a handful of other tween girls still in Jinny's room, most huddled together with study materials between them. They went silent when Tri'im marched past, producing the odd smell of multiple species' fear-scent mixing together.

Jinny threw her current datapad across the bunk, sending it sliding and skittering onto the floor. Tri'im waited, arms crossed, as Jinny snatched up another datapad and pulled up the history texts. Her lower eyes scanned the screen, the upper pair switching between Tri'im and the datapad. Slow, as unthreatening as she could, Tri'im knelt and picked up the fallen datapad. Her charge squeaked, but Tri'im had already seen its contents.

Readjusting the wet washcloth, Tri'im sat beside Jinny, holding the datapad between them. "_Love in Cold Steel_ is not studying material."

Head hung in shame, Jinny took the datapad and put it on the other side of the bunk. "Better'n history," she grumbled under her breath.

"Hey, no, history is-" Tri'im caught herself, coughed into her closed fist, and thought up a quick extranet search. If the texts wouldn't keep Jinny occupied, then Tri'im could at least point her to something a little less dry. The websites were familiar enough she stayed vaguely aware of her surroundings. A list compiled, she grabbed Jinny's wrist, shock and surprise flooding into the link. Tri'im passed the data along. Here. Try some of these. The first is a timeline compilation, the second two are galaxies- Wormdrive is extremely detailed, but it takes forever to load, and Spinnn is simpler and more user-friendly- next one has random interactive things, a couple forums, seven sites, and the last is an ancient graffiti database.

She proceeded to break off the link before Jinny responded. "Go at it. Schoolwork first, then fun, okay?"

By the time Jinny stuttered out an "okay," Tri'im left the room.

Unlike the older girls, the young children didn't react to Tri'im's entrance with awkward silence or fear-smells. Without a word between them, she relieved Jona of his cardboard bowl-making, letting him join Traii in explaining the instructions and ensuring the activity went smoothly while she cut slots to fold the bowls together. When enough were made for all the kids to have one, she ducked out to put the now tepid washcloth in the laundry. Jona and Traii milled around the group, and were talking about Traii's siblings when Tri'im rejoined.

"Do you think they'd have done volunteer stuff if they didn't need to?" Jona asked before giving a cursory examination of a little human's project.

"Oh, Truiraline would, but not the others. They are the busy sort."

"And you aren't?"

Traii laughed, prompting a coupled kids to ask what was so funny. "Oh, nothing," they said to the children, then to the volunteers, "Well, yes, but I'm not the one expected to go on to be a diplomat."

"But you still got media friends," Tri'im said, nodding towards a camera drone that had popped in for a quick shot.

"Oh. That." Traii ruffled their feathers. "I am sort of the... how to put it, _rebel child._ It has made me quite popular amongst my age group."

Even biting down on the back of her hand, it took all of Tri'im's will to not burst out laughing. She supported herself on the wall, bent over and taking deep breaths until she felt she could look Traii in the face without so much as a hiccup. A few more kids asked what was so funny, _really_, and she had to wave them away.

When she stood to face Traii again, the raloi was nowhere near as amused, though not hostile. "...I was being serious."

Tri'im gave Jona a light shove. "And you say turians are all goody-two-shoes."

"Ehhh," he said, head tilting to the side. "Okay, _maybe_ there is someone goody-two-shoier than a turian."

Now Traii looked as puzzled as the children. "What do shoes have to do with any of this?"

Tri'im returned to the wall, while Jona took a deep breath and explained. "It's like someone who always follows the rules and does the right thing."

The metaphorical lightbulb went off over Traii's head. "I get it. So like shiny feathered."

"...Sure. Hey, Tri'im, are you all right over there? You better be, because nobody here can give you mouth-to-mouth if you pass out on us."

When Therus and Allura walked in, they were dumbfounded by the sight of Tri'im Rusius crumbled on the ground, hardly able to breathe, while Jona'Hazt made comments and the raloi ambassador's child told paint-covered kids to go back to their projects.


	5. Community Service

Being pulled out of the room by Therus and Allura sobered Tri'im up quickly. Allura looked ready to burst, arms stick-straight to her sides, taking barely measured breaths into her puffed up chest. Therus was impassive, not even a twitch of his mandibles or sigh of displeasure to hint at what he was feeling. Tri'im matched his posture and expression, but she really, really hoped Allura didn't touch her. Who knew what the asari would do if she knew how nauseous Tri'im felt at the confrontation- or was that the headache?

Few rooms went unused at the facility, so the three squeezed into a supply closet to get some privacy. They shuffled, awkward, for a moment, until Therus quipped about how embarrassing it would be if someone opened up to find them all here. Allura's breath hitched and she hissed at him to stop it. Tri'im banished the thoughts from her head.

"About some pictures that came up last night..." Therus barely touched her hand, but it was enough to get a vague impression of the pictures she knew too well.

She held a palm up, staring him in the eyes. Her voice was steady, but frustration lurked in its undertones. "I know how it looks-"

Allura pushed forwards, no contact though she stood on tiptoes to get closer to Tri'im's face. "It _looks_ like you're picking on your charge! Do you know what that will do to our reputation?"

Tri'im crossed her arms and looked down at the short asari. "It _looks_ like she's a young kid out past curfew." She snorted to buy a few milliseconds to reinforce her argument. "Nobody'd guess she's much older than, what, nine? Not much younger than you look."

Allura blushed deep purple-blue, teeth bared. Therus placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and pulled her back. "Tri'im, I know you were mad, but you entirely overreacted-"

The last string of restraint snapped. Turian stoicism tossed to the side, Tri'im intruded into Therus's space, jaw stiff, claws hooked, the slightest of electric tingles running through her nerves while another migraine flared. "If you're going to give me a demerit, just do it. I got her back here safe and damned sound, that's all I care about."

Like that, the door slammed open, clunking back shut once Tri'im made her exit. Curse them, taking up one of the few empty spaces. If she was lucky, one of the bathroom stalls would be empty. It was worth a try. She routed around high-traffic hallways- nobody needed to run into her now.

There wasn't a line now. The relief scratched the surface of Tri'im's turbulent emotions. She found the nearest open stall, got in, and locked the door. Once sitting, she pressed her forehead to her palms, hiccuping in breaths. On top of one from yesterday- she hadn't seen the file yet, but knew how Allura worked- this was twenty hours of extra work, _if_, and that was a big _if_, they didn't tack on another for blowing up in Therus's face.

She deserved it anyways. How many demerits had she worked off since joining? Too many. Why didn't they just boot her out already? With Traii here, they will have plenty of publicity. People hoping to help trailing out the doors. At least if she left, she could find actual employment.

If anyone hired unstable turians who even the most understaffed shelters didn't want. Turians who hadn't made it in the military thanks to screwy biotics.

Someone started a short squabble outside the stall. Tri'im raised her head, examining the noise. Sounded like-

Jona appeared over the door, giving her a curt nod before dropping to her side. "Hey, you. Thought you'd be here, since Mister Popularity and his girlfriend are having a _heartfelt moment_ in the closet."

Her eyes narrowed, more out of bewilderment than anger. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged, determined that Tri'im's lap was not a good spot to sit, and squatted against a wall. "Being a friend." He leaned forwards and draped himself over her in a hug. This better? I get it if you don't want to talk out loud- _keelah se'lai_, open up the floodgates why don't you?

She ignored him in favor of squeezing him tighter, mandible scraping against his mask. He was durable enough for the comfort-toy treatment, tightening his grip in return. He burrowed away his own emotions, letting Tri'im fill him up with hers. Words stopped being necessary. He just nodded as they waited for her to burn out.

Eventually she was worn out enough she let go of Jona. He excused himself to go help Traii handle games. She said she'd be out in a moment, just let her check her messages.

The kerfuffle that resulted from his exiting the stall almost brought a smirk to her face.

Lucky her had one message from Quintus. Eye ridges furrowed, then spread apart as her eyes went wide. She had no idea what she sent him, and from the timestamp, this came after she passed out. Her blood turned to ice.

Hesitant, she opened the message.

_Wow. I... didn't know you felt so strongly about this. So, how about we, I don't know, meet up sometime? I know you have your work, but there's this nice little cafe near the Zakera ward. If you want._

She had to reread those five sentences multiple times for the meaning to get into her ground still brain. Once she got it, she thought out a reply too fast for the system to keep up with her.

_Yes yesyes. I mean, of course. But maybe in a day or two? I got a splitting headache._

It sent before she could rewrite the last line. Well, at least it was the truth. Quintus would get it.

The other girls had either entered a stall or left by the time Tri'im got out to do a quick check in a mirror. She could only find evidence of her short breakdown upon close inspection of her eyes and the occasional twitch of her jaw. Sufficiently better to go watch over the kids.

When she returned to the room, Jona was herding the excited children together while Traii attempted to announce the next game. Some turned around at the sound of the door opening, a few waved. Tri'im waved back and came up opposite Jona, fingers laced behind her back as she peered down at the young faces.

It distracted them long enough for Traii to speak up and announce the next game, which took a bit of explaining before the kids got it and promptly broke out into an argument on the "real" name of the game. Sharks and minnows, bears and fish, maws and trucks, run hunter, it all blended together into a cacophony of high-pitched voices.

It took Tri'im shouting to restore any semblance of order to the room, and once they'd picked someone to be "it" and started the game, the kids self-regulated; in some strange act of convergence, no matter what the name of the game, it had about the same rules across cultures.

Jona and Traii were more than happy to keep the kids running around until lunch, coming up with new games while Tri'im played referee. The plan was always to wear them out, but it never worked. The early lunch didn't help, but it wasn't like the volunteers were going to complain about food.

"All right," Jona started, stretching a holographic lesson plan across their table. "So I think we got exercise covered for the day. We got to fit in some math and science, then we can let them loose on their language stuff. What shall it be today? Biology, geology, or physics?"

Traii glanced up, Tri'im following their gaze to a camera making a quick stop over the table. "You are acting as their teachers, and you have no compensation?"

The light of Jona's eyes drifted towards the camera, then back to Traii while he propped an elbow on the table, as casually proud as he could act. "Ah, it's for the kids. Besides, we got food." He gestured towards the trays and bottle.

It was, overall, the exact opposite of what Jona would usually tell Tri'im when she brought it up. She didn't say a word against him, instead echoing, "It's for the kids." The media would not want to be hearing much from her right now.

The camera zipped off. Jona hunched over into a thinking pose, tracing a finger along the lines of the lesson plan. "Bio one needs some onions... neither of you would happen to have some to spare?"

Tri'im snorted, Traii pulling their head back towards their chest.

"I guess that's a no. Physics, then? Paper airplanes, can't beat that." He copied off the "discuss these" notes and passed copies to Tri'im and Traii. "Three teachers, these lucky ducks. Heh, between the three of us, we should have physics covered, right?"

Tri'im fought hard not to groan at Jona's comment or Traii's subsequent question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm a quarian, all engineering and stuff-" he brushed dust off his chest. "You got wings, and Tri'im, she-"

She glared at him.

"-Does physics."

"Says the quarian who would rather be a teacher than a mechanic."

He crossed his arms and tossed his head back with a _tch_. "Don't stereotype me," he accused in a voice way too low to be serious.

Traii chuckled. "I will take your words for it." They craned their neck to scan the room. "I think some children have finished eating. I can watch over them." They started to stand, only for Jona to motion for them to sit again.

"They'll be fine. They know they're in for it if they screw around too badly." He nodded at Traii's half-full tray. "Just eat. If we need to, Tri'im can yell at them."

"Speaking of yelling at children..." The older youth were trickling into the cafeteria, more than a few with darkened eyes or stress lines from their lessons. Tri'im searched for Jinny, skipping over clumps of tweens. How hard could it be to find the single batarian- there she was.

Jinny actually met Tri'im's eyes when the latter approached, as good a sign as any, though she often broke eye contact in favor of the lunch line or something on the walls. "Uh... hi?"

Tri'im crossed her arms before deciding to keep them behind her back instead. No need to look intimidating. "So, test?"

Jinny hugged an arm close to her body, all of a sudden preoccupied with the lines on the floor. "Um..."

"You _did_ take it, right?"

The girl was about ready to jump out of her skin. "Yeah-huh! I did, I promise!"

Tri'im relaxed, and Jinny slumped into a defeated posture. "But I was kinda sorta checking out the graffiti stuff and kinda... missed part of the test window."

Both tensed up. _Oh, what's it matter?_ Tri'im thought. _As long as she did something related to it._ She patted Jinny on the shoulder, just long enough to get across that she was happy she'd found something that got her into history. "It's good. Just watch the clock next time."

It would be good enough for now. It had to be.


	6. Cookies and Qui'im

The cafe, as it turned out, was a hidden away little spot with full-wall screens and filled with sweet sugar and pastry smells accompanied by earthy roasting Earth coffee and more bitter Palaven stum. Quintus and Tri'im huddled together in a corner booth facing the door, the former sipping his drink while the latter picked the crust off a slice of kupri loaf, catching a baked-in glob of fruit on her teeth to pull it apart with her tongue.

"I'm-" He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about...that. Couple nights ago."

"You're fine. I should have said something, or told my mother not to be _right at the door_ when you came by. Heh. Maybe nuked the nearest Reaper for extra security."

His hand, slightly shaking and a bit too cool, touched the top of hers, fingers lacing together. Both held back from sharing beyond the faintest trickle of each others' presence. "It's all right."

They shifted closer together, until her shoulder covered his and if they lolled their heads too far they bumped together. She felt the steady pattern of his heartbeat against her arm, comforted knowing it wasn't racing, erratic, betraying something he didn't share.

"So, ah, how's your volunteering going?"

She kept a straight face while picking snippets to share. He need not worry about the strikes, that was certain. She shrugged, turning her palms up for a quick second. "You heard about the raloi diplomat coming here?"

He paused to give her a quizzical look before slipping back into a constant examination of the room. "A bit. You know, I kind of... understand why they hid from the Reapers. They were like galactic babies or something." He squinted, teeth clacking together. "Or something. But, ah, what about them?"

"Some kid of theirs showed up- actually, day after the whole _mata__ incident_ thing- and Therus stuck 'em with Jona and me." She rolled her eyes. "It's just- they're so _naive_. All 'ooh, hey, there's some poor kids, let's make them happy and of course they'll cooperate and be darlings!'" With a sigh, she pulled off a corner of her kupri loaf slice, running her thumb along its rough outside before eating it. "Ah, it's nothing. The children love 'em. They and Jona had a blast teaching physics."

Quintus's mandibles flared. "Pun intended?"

She snorted and gave him a light shove, the two laughing to themselves.

"Okay. Now that that's out of the way, what have _you_ been up to?" She nudged him again, but he was looking elsewhere. She followed his gaze to a pair of human women who could have been identical twins had one not looked nineteen and the other thirty-something. The elder had a dangerous, wary edge to her, head held high but turning to view the whole cafe. Her eyes met the turians', lingering until the younger asked something.

Quintus broke his focus on the woman's back first. "Sorry, Tri'im. What?"

"Huh?"

They stared at each other for a few long seconds, immobile. Then Quintus shook his head and said, "Right. Uh, stuff. The...the flowers I've got started blooming."

She pressed into his side, hooking her leg around his. "I'll have to make my way to your place sometime, then. Which is that really early one? With the white petals?"

"The jasmine? I, ah..." He suddenly found great interest in the lines on the table. "I had to cut it," he mumbled.

"Oh." She rested her head on her knuckles, watching a couple more humans sit down with the almost-twins across the way and whisper to each other, giving furtive glances towards the other tables. "How are the rest, then?"

"Great! I got some more annuals transferred yesterday and-" He caught himself to examine her blank, somewhat lost expression. "...Pretty much there's more flowers."

Tri'im apologized and the two chatted on, first about flowers then Quintus's prospective new job at the police station sifting through data. She offered to see if she could get a good word in with the police chief, until he said that the person she knew as chief wasn't there any more.

"Really? I'd thought he'd never retire."

Quintus shrugged. "I don't know. I think I remember seeing his name on the precinct's memorial board, though."

"He was the first one to come by when we first moved here." The memory took a little digging to recall in detail, but she remembered the pleasant surprise the visitor had brought to her- only ten at the time- and her parents. They were new to the Citadel, and Tri'im was still in a foul mood from it all which made everything that much worse. He had only stayed for a short time, but it put her parents at ease, which trickled down to her. "Good guy."

They finished their food with little more to be said. After deeming the place "nice, yeah" and making vague plans to meet up again sometime (Tri'im really wanted to go see the flowers, jasmine or no) they parted ways.

It would have gone faster had Tri'im not ran into the guy who'd sat with the almost-twins. They swapped apologies, and she noticed he had a nice brogue of an accent.

But she let the encounter fade from her mind.


	7. Run From Your Problems

If only Tri'im had a few more days of warning about the graduation party. Sure, it was an impromptu event and until a couple days ago, she hadn't needed the extra hours from cleaning up after, but part of her still stewed over losing any chance at plans for the night. Like the plans Traii and Jona had made to go visit a nearby bar.

It didn't matter any more. Now she was stuck rearranging the tables while Allura swept up.

"Actually quiet here for once," Tri'im commented as she lifted one of the lower tables for Allura to clean under. She watched the asari twist to get the broom in every crack and hard-to-reach spot, and something itched at the back of her brain.

"At least the kids understood what the term _lights-out_ means for once." Allura wrinkled her button nose, pushed on the bridge of her glasses with a finger. They didn't budge. "We must have worn them out."

"Bet they're all huddling with the graduates?" Despite officially aging out of the program, the three new graduates got one last night at the shelter. They would be gone by next afternoon, or else the volunteers were supposed to report them as trespassers.

"No doubt." Allura gathered the dust into a pile and dumped it in a garbage bin, biotics skimming over the floor to get the last bits of dirt.

"That's the last of it," Tri'im announced, taking a moment to study their handiwork. "I doubt you trust me to finish the reports and lock up, so I'll be going-"

"Hold on."

Head cocked, Tri'im studied Allura's expression, searching for signs of her intent. The seriousness...disappointed her, but she didn't know what she had expected. Allura nodded to her and walked off. She followed close behind, matching a mental map of the facility with their path and likely destinations. The supply closet was not high on her list, but they ended up there anyways.

Allura took a deep breath, running her hands across the back of her neck. "Okay. First things first. Ergh, just hold on a second." Lips drawn tight, she reached out, fingertips touching Tri'im's knuckles so lightly it was hard to imagine they could form a connection. An interface on her glasses powered on, Allura's eyes flickering back and forth until she found what she wanted. Then she touched the side of her glasses, pulling away a message with her fingers. She placed it between them, expanding it to the size of a medium poster.

Upon reading the sender's name and the first couple sentences, Tri'im understood why Allura was so grim.

"I didn't think about it at first," Allura said, the low glow of the message making the slightest lines of tire and worry all the deeper, "But this could become a _massive_ security issue."

Tri'im nodded, mechanical as a cheap robot. She thought anything related to the video had died down, her fifteen minutes of infamy done and gone. "At the least." She reread every letter of the sender's name.

_Varik M'rin_. She burned it into her memory.

"Sad remnants they may be, but if the past taught us anything, it's that batarians are rough. I am not going to let this-" Allura gestured to the message like it were M'rin himself. "Endanger everyone here."

_I write to you on the subject of a clip involving one of your shelter's volunteers and one youth. I doubt I need to say which._

_We want her back._

Another nod. The volunteers met each others' eyes. They didn't need biocircuits to share their unsettled feelings.

"We need to fix it."

"That we do."

_She belongs with us. It is only fitting for her to rejoin her people, especially in their time of need. Holding her hostage like this is cruelty.  
_

Silence fell. On top of the situation, it was miserably heavy.

_If you do not contact us, we will come to you._

"We need a plan."

"Obviously."

They stared at each other, Tri'im's eyes narrowing when Allura's got a glint of an idea. "What are you thinking..."

_This will be resolved by any means necessary._

"Well, she can't stay here any more."

"It'll be obvious if I start buying levo stuff!"

Arms crossed, both leaning back, but the standoff didn't last. "I'm sure we can pass you things."

"Would it be any safer?"

"You were in a cabal, right?"

Tri'im hummed a low note.

"You can handle it. Let's just do this tonight. Be quiet, though, okay?"

A dip of the head and a roll of the eyes were all the answer Allura got. Tri'im left the closet, stalking towards the girls' rooms.

Jinny and all her roommates were fast asleep. Now that this was a mission, Tri'im was twice as aware of every small sound, moving slow, pausing in front of her charge both to ensure she didn't make too much of a disturbance at once and to marvel at the mess made with so few belongings. With a soft sigh, she knelt down and lifted data pads off of and from around the bed, placed them in the laundry bag shoved under the frame, nestled amongst dirty clothes. Was it worth it to get some other clothes? Tri'im slipped a finger under a drawer handle before deciding against it.

The bag wasn't a problem; the datapads were separated from each other enough that Tri'im could put the loops around her shoulders like a backpack with little noise. But she didn't know if Jinny could be quiet if she woke her up to go, but at the same time, if she was a light enough sleeper, being moved could wake her up and cause much more of a commotion.

Training didn't let her hesitate too long. She pushed Jinny's shoulder hard enough to send her from lying on her side to on her face. Dull awareness leaked into the connection, displayed physically with a mumble and a shift onto her side, facing Tri'im.

When the first of Jinny's eyes started to open, Tri'im gripped her shoulder harder. Be quiet.

She got a slow blink in return. Why?

Just trust me. Get up and follow me.

Jinny sat up, rubbing an eye. She and Tri'im froze when the bed creaked. They waited one second, two, then one of the other girls sighed. Nothing else happened. They moved quickly from there, half-crouched. Tri'im kept Jinny right behind her, always in contact but putting off the girl's sleepy questions.

They fell into a routine. Tri'im checked ahead for security cameras and similar measures, making quick calculations to determine the best route. They matched footsteps, even scanning the area in unison once they left the building. Tri'im kept Jinny's messy amalgam of confusion, fear, and excitement at bay. Around the time they were creeping through a low-traffic path, Tri'im started answering basic questions.

Where are we going?

My place.

Why?

I'll tell you later.

Can't we go up there? She pointed at the maintenance platforms.

Can you fly? There was no way the two could get up without someone getting hurt or screwing with physics. The access points to the platforms were guarded, and Tri'im didn't want to risk it.

It was only when they reached the door to the apartment complex that Tri'im realized what she had gotten into. It was late now, but there could still be people up in the halls and someone at the front desk. Stay low.

She acted nonchalant, giving the room a quick survey before stepping away from the door. Nirumin, the asari who was on shift at the front desk, was exhausted, eyes red and bleary, hunched over like she was three times her age. Her head raised when Tri'im came in, but soon recognized her as a tenant and not a particularly problematic one. The two nodded at each other, then Nirumin rested her head again and Tri'im could continue on, Jinny almost crawling along beside her legs to obscure her image on a nearby camera.

They reached Tri'im's apartment with no further complications. The memory of Quintus's reaction still clear, Tri'im took Jinny's hand, turning her around so their eyes met. Have I ever told you about my mother?

Jinny blinked, fully awake now and starting to bounce on the balls of her feet. Uh...I don't think so? Tri'im could feel the girl probing for a right answer, but there was none.

All right. Well, before the synthesis happened, she and my father-

The door slid open. Volunteer and charge's hearts stopped, the latter slowly turning away from Tri'im.

Galantian's head twisted to an uncomfortable, exaggerated puzzled angle. Cameras zoomed in and out, first training on the young batarian then her daughter who could not have looked more horrified if she'd been caught with a drug cartel.

She stepped aside, admitting the two in.

After a tense moment, Tri'im herded Jinny inside, figuring that no matter what, better to react out of sight of the security cameras.

"Hi, Mrs. Rusius." Jinny nodded to Galantian, bouncing like she had springs in her heels.

Galantian nodded back, far slower and mandibles swirling tiny circles in the air.

Tri'im did not share the friendly sentiments, instead rubbing her eye ridges. "Jinny, my mother. Mother, this is Jinny. I... ought to explain this."

She didn't need to see them to know their answers.

"Okay, no complaining, because I got this sprung on me too." She sat down on the couch, soon joined on by the others.

She took a breath. "So, Allura took me aside after we finished cleaning. She showed me this message-" She mimicked the temple-to-air movement Allura made to bring up the message. "It was from this Varik M'rin, and he'd seen the video from a few nights ago." She paused while Jinny made an 'ich' sound. "And he wrote that we were holding you hostage and you would do better fulfilling a _need_ of _your people._"

Jinny scratched her chin, eyes pointing at her nose. "Wait, what need?"

Tri'im tried not to glare, but did anyways. "You're a young female. What do you think?"

It took less than a second for Jinny's confusion to become an expression of disgusted horror. Tri'im wished it could be over a freaky story, or a thing of bugs, or some other normal thing. Thinking of normal brought Tri'im to wish she could be with Jona and Traii, instead of sitting here with Jinny looking like she saw a ghost and downright _stinking_ of fear on one side, Galantian on the other, typing at a speed Tri'im thought only VIs could reach.

Galantian passed the datapad across Tri'im to Jinny, who took it with a quiet "Thank you."

"Anyways," Tri'im continued, "You'll be staying here until this all blows over."

"Mkay," Jinny mumbled, giving the datapad back to Galantian. She buried her head into the back of the couch. "I shoulda never wanted to be sneaking around."

"It'll be fine." Certainly Tri'im had used up all her life's drama cards, so this could all blow over and they'd have a good laugh about this later. She swung the laundry bag off her shoulders, wedging it between herself and Jinny. "If you want to read something, I got your datapads here."

Galantian leaned forwards to stare at the bag, same as Jinny. Had they seriously not noticed it?

Tri'im gave them each a sideways glance. "By the way, kid, you have laundry to do." She got up, stretching so her back popped, and left for her room. If Jinny needed time to panic and cry and get it out of her system, so be it. Mother was always better at cheering folks up anyhow.

The door closed behind her while she pulled down the bed, too rough so it bounced into and out of its locking mechanism. She growled at it and sat down, hearing and feeling it click into place. For a second, she didn't know whether to just lean back against the wall or lie down and go to sleep. To consider it, she did the former.

Which is probably why, when the door opened again, Jinny came in and sat beside her instead of leaving her alone.

They sat in silence, Tri'im starting to nod off while Jinny picked at her fingernails, for who knows how long.

"You're used to weird shit, aren't you?" Tri'im was somewhat aware that she was in the space between being awake and asleep, any remnants of a thought-to-mouth filter fading rapidly.

"Uh-huh."

"Explains a lot." She caught half-dream images of the volunteers she knew in pirate gear, and had a feeling they were planning a mutiny against Allura. Something about washing dishes.

"So, uh, where's your dad?"

"Whaddya mean?" As leader of the rebels, she'd get the spoils: Allura all to herself. Tch, like the asari would stand for it.

"I thought they were, like, standard issue across the galaxy?"

She snorted. "Nah, 'course not." She didn't catch what Jinny said next, but knew she said something and felt compelled to add, "He's not home. Went and found himself a krogan and... nobody came out of it looking pretty."

"Oh."

Neither really noticed when Tri'im fell asleep, chin to chest, keeping the conversation alive well into the night.

* * *

**Hi, everyone. Thank you all for the reads, reviews, and a couple follows. They warm my heart and keep me writing this when I should be working on scholarship essays or something. While I might not reply to everything, I certainly read every review and take what they say into consideration- I've updated the first chapter especially often. (That's what I get for writing part of it and not coming back to it for months. Who'd a' thunk it that Quintus was Quintim?)**

**I know, lots more not-Traii than Traii, despite what the summary says. They'll be back soon enough, now that the subplots are going.**

**Anyhow, you know that writing moment when you realize an odd, yet totally plausible connection?**

**I've had a few of those for this fic.**


	8. The Key

_That,_ Tri'im thought, grimacing at the sharp ache in her neck and jaw, _was a bad idea._ The last images from her dream, which had morphed from a pirate adventure to a pitiful attempt to fly in the Presidium, faded away. Sitting up straight didn't help, her back protesting after being hunched over for the night.

One eye opened showed Jinny curled up, still fast asleep. Tri'im reached over the sleeping girl, one leg on the ground, then the other, then gradually removing the rest of her weight. She almost unlocked the bed, hand halfway to the mechanism before she caught herself and cracked open her other eye to ponder the bed's remaining occupant. It was, she had to admit, kind of tempting to unlock it and see at what angle Jinny woke up and keep going just to tease.

Kinda like it had been in the cabal. Sibling-y, as confirmed by her teammates who _had_ siblings.

Ah, no point to it here and now. She shook her head and stepped out and down the stairs.

Her mother was nowhere to be seen. Somewhat surprised, Tri'im blinked and wandered around the perimeter of the room, listening for the sound of movement in the rooms above. Nothing. She made a slow spiral inwards, ending at the datapad lying on the counter.

_Hi Tri'im,_

_I got called in for a little extra work. Apparently a big liner hit something and had to dock here. Lots of folks trying to get through, so all hands on deck here! I managed to stop by the store and get some levo food for your friend. Have fun!_

_Love,_

_Mata_

Well, that explained it. Galantian was always first for pulling extra duty at the Citadel's port security, especially at odd hours. At times Tri'im wondered if she was just looking at scans all day or if she'd managed to get her old job as an undercover C-Sec agent back.

She checked the fridge. There were indeed a handful of foods labeled 'LEVO' stashed in one half of a shelf, surrounded by 'DEXTRO's and unmarked containers with varying amounts of leftovers. A jar of pickled eggs, with the majority of the label in an asari script, a pack of flat bread that resembled the dan she was more familiar with, a bunch of yellow, curved fruit, and something labeled as 'peanut butter.' With a shrug, she grabbed a packaged slice of auronnech and shut the door.

It wasn't long after the slab of meat hit a frying pan that Jinny got up and shuffled about, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She took the same datapad-to-fridge route Tri'im had, ending when she stood with the fridge door open for around a minute.

"Hey, no wasting the cold."

The door shut hard. "Oh, uh, sorry."

After Tri'im turned back to her auronnech, she heard the door open again and before long a ripping sound. Predator quick, she homed in on the source, which turned out to be Jinny, who popped back up with the peanut butter, bread, and a yellow fruit in hand. The initial rush of the unknown condensed into disappointed sludge, even more so when the girl asked where the plates and a knife were.

"Uh, can I ask you something?"

Tri'im turned a palm up while the other hand maneuvered the meat from pan to plate. "Sure. Might not answer, though."

Jinny hesitated by the stove, apparently abandoning any further cooking plans to follow Tri'im to the seats by the counter, hauling herself up while Tri'im settled in. "Oh, well, it's about last night."

"What, do I snore?" _Please don't let this become a cryfest. I don't know what to do. You've been sturdy this whole time, no breaking down on me now._

"Nuh uh, it's just that you were talking about your dad and a krogan?" Jinny tittered, taking a bite of her sandwich. "I don't know, you were talking kinda weird, and like, I thought I'd ask?"

The conversation stopped while Tri'im picked at her food, debating whether or not to answer. The question picked at a wound she thought had scabbed over, and she wasn't sure if the scab was ready to come off yet. But for her, there had always been only one way to find out. "He was a brute."

"Like, as in-"

"As in a _brute_. Reaperized." She picked up the slice of auronnech and mumbled, "Hardly lasted six months."

"Oh...sorry." Now Jinny's voice was low, soft-spoken in a way that pissed Tri'im off. Why couldn't she be quiet all the time, instead of doing shit that got her in trouble? "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just hungry." With that Tri'im ripped into her breakfast, shoving thoughts of her father out of her mind and memories back into locked boxes, forcing in considerations of what to do today instead. Jona and Traii were probably recovering from their night out, but it was worth a try.

_Jona. My place?_ The biocircuitry along the side of her face glowed for a moment as she sent the message.

There wasn't a reply until she was at the sink, cleaning her plate. _Ugh. Going places? Is there food at least?_

Her mandibles twitched. _Only your stash._

"Hey, Jona's going to be here soon. Traii, too, maybe." She stepped aside to let Jinny wash her plate, giving her wet hands a quick swipe on her pants. Hm. She'd have to explain why Jinny was staying here. Not like Jona couldn't keep a secret. Traii would just need to keep the camera drones out.

"Uh..." Jinny bit her bottom lip (how could a soft-faced organic deal with sharp teeth like those without mangling themselves?), eyes darting side to side. The only movement near her was running water.

Both hesitated for a moment before Tri'im shrugged it off, moving like an unpaused vid. "Trust me. It'll be fine."

Still, Jinny insisted on hiding in Tri'im's room. The turian was stewing on the couch at the situation when the door keyed open. Jona stood in front of the doorway, foot raised as if he planned to kick his way in. His balance failed soon enough, sending him stumbling into the apartment, Traii not far behind.

Jona made his way to the fridge, steadying himself on it while grabbing one of the bottles from a door shelf. "Carbs..." he groaned, holding the bottle to the light. "Glorious, glorious carbs."

Soon Tri'im found herself pushed to the edge of the couch, Jona wedging himself in the middle, and Traii curled up beside him, arms over their head. She gave them a side-eye, more for show than anything.

Jona produced a straw from a side pocket, quick to tear off the sterile packaging and stick it in the bottle. He fitted the straw to his mouthpiece, then hesitated to ask, "Mother's already at work?"

"Mmhm," Tri'im answered, watching Jona's straw darken with nutrient slurry. Just looking at it reminded her of the time he'd let her try some, and how _boring_ it had been. She still remembered the taste of the vaguely grain-flavored sludge, and she had last had it a year ago. "Work. Port got busy."

Traii squinted at her. "The spaceport? The _Clarke _collided with debris, yes? That is what I heard."

"Yeah, well, she works security, so that's why." She readjusted, giving herself more room on the couch, just enough to be comfortable. "So, last night."

That got a laugh from Jona and brought a glaze (she figured it was wistful) over Traii's eyes. "If only you were there," Jona said, considering his quarter empty bottle. "I might need _two _of these."

Traii chuckled under their breath, producing more shuddering than anything.

Jona nudged them in the side. "Thinking of Eternity?"

The question got a hum from Traii and started jealousy gnawing at Tri'im's stomach. The raloi unfolded, chin pressed to their chest. "We were lucky, weren't we?"

Jona threw his head back, barking out a sharp _hah_! "They were lucky, you mean." He leaned closer to Tri'im, whispering, "This fellow can flirt like a pro." He turned back to Traii. "Remember Fazia?"

That was definitely wist in their eyes. Tri'im ensured she wasn't connected to Jona before indulging in her jealousy and the new aches that Fazia represented. One of the Afterlife dancers, displaced during the war, who came with her old crew to Eternity on rare occasions. It was hard for Tri'im not to lust after her, but actually _talk_ to her? Few dared.

"Them and... and Fazia?" She couldn't help but sound incredulous. Traii just tilted their head away, trying to be humble.

Jona nodded, eyes wide. He took a sip of his drink before continuing. "_Poetry_. Apparently she likes _poetry_!"

Poetry. Why hadn't she thought of that? She ignored Traii's muttered explanations, trying to find one of her own. Soon she shrugged, leaning back. "You're probably real attractive to her, Traii. Being different and all."

Their eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

She straightened up again, mentally slapping herself and trying to come up with something to salvage the situation. "You're raloi and everything-" _Not good enough!_ "And I bet nobody else would think a dancer likes poetry."

They sighed, not relaxed enough to look entirely satisfied by her answer, but it would do for now. "I am certain lessons in interspecies communications helped." Now their laugh was dry. They stood, taking a moment to examine the apartment. "I, ah, where is the bathroom?"

"Go towards the stairs, door on the right," Tri'im and Jona answered in unison. The two sat in silence while Traii found their way.

The bathroom door clicked shut. "Look, Tri'im," Jona half-hissed, half-whispered, "I know it may be hard for you, but _please_ be nice to them. No backhanded insults or anything, okay?"

She hunched fowards, elbows on her knees and chin on her interlaced hands. "What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"Ugh, I don't know, but-" He flipped over so he was on top of her, mask inches from her face, hands on her shoulders, legs around hers, feet perched on her spurs. Seriously. Tri'im. They could be the _key!_

She held back her uncertainty, but narrowed her eyes all the same. Is that what this is all about?

Honestly, yes. But think about it! Bringing a diplomat's favor back home? It puts _geth parts_ to shame! A burst of thoughts, half-formed ideas and more complete fantasies flashed in her head from his. A common thread of adoration and acceptance ran through all of them.

It was attractive. Go with it, let Jona play up Traii until he'd won the raloi over for the quarians. Then watch as he went back to Rannoch, his Pilgrimage done, which hurt in a way Tri'im knew was selfish. She nodded, gripped him by the shoulders, and moved him off her lap. I get it. Be nice to the bird.

Good Tri'im. Jona patted her shoulder before breaking the connection. The two sat back to wait for said bird to finish in the bathroom.

The satisfied silence was broken by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, a door swishing open, and dual high-pitched screams.


	9. Burnout

That was one way to introduce the housing situation. Traii fumbled with their pants, eyes switching from their backside to the small crowd gathered while they tried to get their tail feathers in their designated slot. Meanwhile Jinny babbled apologies, Jona stepped back, failing to understand the situation, and Tri'im felt a headache coming on.

Like all good minor chaos, it calmed down eventually, once Traii was no longer half-naked and they and Jinny could look at each other without apologizing. Though it was still awkward.

"Okay," Jona said, one hand on his faceplate and the other holding his elbow. He flared his fingers out, head still turned to the ground. "What did I walk in to?"

"I needed to pee..." Jinny mumbled, followed by a quip of 'so did I' from Traii.

"No shit. Heh. But _why_-" He held his palms out towards Jinny, framing her between them. "Are _you _here?"

Her embarrassment gave way to trepidation. Tri'im's jaw set and eyes narrowed behind the hand covering them. The turian straightened up. "I'll explain."

And she did, watching Jona's head tilt and Traii lean in to listen closer, then both recoil when she got to the implications of the situation and make sounds of disgust at Jinny's addition of, "I know, right?"

Soon the four had all sat down on the floor (there wasn't enough room on the couch for everyone, despite Jona's insistence that they would all fit) and everyone voiced their concerns.

"The batarians contacted St. Agatha's directly? Security issue, hello!"

A low growl. "They figured _that_ one out, Jona."

"Wait, like, all batarians are a security issue?" Jinny bit her lip, nervous.

"No," Traii said, sounding distant, deep in thought. "But with the chaos caused by damage to the _Clarke_, there is the possibility they could take advantage and sneak in."

Tri'im snapped into ramrod-straight posture, fingers drumming on her leg and mandibles held firm to her jaw. "Don't batarians like to throw asteroids at things?"

Traii and Jinny stared at her, confused. After a few seconds, Jinny nodded. "Ohh. Riiight." Then she shrugged. "I dunno, pretty fast, though, huh?"

Traii's head dipped and they whistled a low note. "Yes, true, and drastic."

"Unless they're being bosh'tets for shits and giggles."

"Wouldn't put it past 'em."

"...Yeah."

Three sets of eyes focused on Jinny, eye ridges raised or heads cocked, whatever was applicable. The batarian girl put her palms out. "What? _I_ was raised, er, uh." She frowned, scratching her chin. "Never mind."

Jona sighed and shook his head, pressing his fingertips to his faceplate. "Oh, keelah, just thinking about it, what if someone _does_ try to sneak in or something? Or out? This isn't just St. Aggie's security, what if it's _Citadel_ security?"

"Is that not the jurisdiction of, well, Citadel Security?" Traii sounded nervous now, and Tri'im had a good idea what raloi fear smell was like, and with the nerves everyone was working up, she could even get a hint of quarian smell.

She'd have to remember to tell him to put on some deodorant later. Right now, she gave the others a withering glare. "Will you all calm down? There's plenty of debris in the galaxy. It had to hit something sometime."

"Hey, you started this-"

"But I didn't bring up the _Clarke,_" she said, cutting Jona off, then stood with a grunt. Her head didn't feel right, the sort of not-right that precluded far worse not-right. The migraines had been getting more frequent the past few days, at least by her count, and she'd "neglected" to tell her mother she was out of medicine. After the whole _Clarke_ thing blew over, maybe, that should come with enough overtime pay to cover the cost.

Jona huffed, but let the topic die while Jinny asked Traii if they wanted any pickled eggs. Unsurprisingly, the raloi was far from interested, though they didn't act as off-put as they had when they heard the girl's situation.

Tri'im dismissed herself to the bathroom. The moment the door shut, she reached for a washcloth, a handmade one her grandmother (paternal or maternal, she couldn't remember) had sent years ago. The garish colors had put preteen Tri'im off and sure didn't help her headache now, but the softness of the material overshadowed its looks. She ran the cold water and thoroughly soaked the cloth, leaned over the counter, and pressed the cool cloth into her face plates with a sigh.

The tension didn't melt away like she'd hoped it would, and soon she peeked out from over the cloth. Resigned, she turned the cloth over and set it on the back of her head, shivering when a drop ran down her spine. She rubbed her temples, working her fingers as far as they could go at the exposed areas around her eyes. She moved forward until she was inches from the mirror, studying the flaws and unusual spots she could find.

Naturally, she examined her eyes first, organic instinct drawing her to them. They'd always been green, but a cold, greyish-green, making the brighter biocircuits stand out almost as much as they would on blue eyes. It didn't look like her. She shut her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to help dispel the mild dysphoria, and moved on. Her tattoo needed a bit of a touch-up; she must have been scraping at it too much. Her mandibles flared at the thought that maybe Quintus was hoping she'd wear her Syglar skull away, so he could paint those Bostra curves all over her face.

_Too bad for him,_ she thought as she played with the idea of sending the artist who did her last touch-up a message. _I'll never give up Syglar._ She could wait on meds, come to think of it, the cool cloth helped plenty. It'd tide her over until the next overtime check or she found someone willing to hire her.

Jona knocked on the door, his way of using the heel of his hand producing a distinct sound. Tri'im waved until the motion sensor picked it up and opened the door, regretting it the moment Jona got up right next to her, Jinny and Traii peeking inside, too. She growled at the three of them.

"Come on, we just wanna know you're okay."

"I'm _fine._ You people are..." She gripped the edges of her face in one hand and held out the other, fingers curling inwards. Jinny and Traii disappeared from the edge of the mirror and out the door.

Jona slung an arm across her shoulders and cowl. Seriously, you need to do something about those.

Can't. Basis for the synthesis. She glared at her reflection, imagining an x-ray view of the tech sitting in her head. Her tiredness diffused into him, and he responded with the same promise of support he always did. Why did the synthesis have to pick _that_, and not her omni-tool, like it had for so many others, or... well, no, her omni-tool was off her when it happened. When the whole damn cabal was being rushed out for medical treatment.

Jona redirected her away from the inevitable dark tunnel that train of thought went down, instead suggesting she send a message to Carmilla, the one cabal-mate who hit both criteria of being alive and willing to talk to Tri'im. Just a chat.

Or I could, I don't know, talk to Quintus instead? Let the past stay that way for a while?

You're wanting _Quintus_ for avoiding the past? Look, I know he's cute and sweet and all, heck, I saw him when he came to St. Aggie's, too, but he _screams_ 'war flashback'-

Tri'im elbowed Jona in the chest, hard. That alone would have gotten the message across, but the tidal wave of 'not funny' didn't hurt. Not for her, anyways. Go reassure your key. As far as anyone needs to know, it's all good.

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**Hey, lookit, that was an awful fast update. One of those 'sudden burst of writing gusto' moments, I guess. And I really, _really_ want to get on to the next part. By the way, there's probably only a few chapters left. I'm not aiming for a novel here, and honestly, the more freeform structure of fan fiction has been great. I love being able to get to the point and play in Mass Effect's world. I just hope I'm not speeding things along too fast for such matters as, say, character development and proper pacing.  
**

**Please warn me if I'm doing that. Heck, please tell me any thoughts you have on this. I see the traffic stats, but I can only extrapolate so much from that, y'know?**


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